


Sam shows Jessica around Citadel

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [207]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 10:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.





	Sam shows Jessica around Citadel

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Sam Worthington/Ryan Kwanten storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

"Okay, thanks. I'll be right down," Jessica assures the concierge, then takes one last look in the mirror. Is she dressed right? Does she look right? She groans and slips the keycard to her hotel suite into her handbag, then takes the elevator downstairs to go meet Sam. He'd told her that he'd be picking her up in a private car, and sure enough there's a uniformed driver waiting for her right out front. "Thank you," she says softly, and ducks inside the waiting SUV, where she catches a glimpse of her waiting escort. "Just tell me I don't have to go back up and change my clothes," she orders, in lieu of a more traditional greeting. She's dressed comfortably but neatly, skinny blue jeans and black ankle boots, a sheer black blouse with her bra peeking through the thin material, and a sensible woolen peacoat on top of it all. If she's supposed to be wearing some kind of latex mistress or slave get-up, well, Sam didn't send her that memo.

"Nope. You look good to me," Sam assures her with a grin, his eyes sparkling. "Besides, pretty much anything goes as long as you're not naked in the clothed areas or clothed in the naked ones."

"In the...? Oh, forget it," she decides with a roll of her eyes. Sam, at any rate, looks delectable -- nice white shirt open at the throat, black jeans, slight beard shadow trimmed and neat. Jessica takes advantage of the moments before they pull into traffic to throw her arms around Sam's neck and drag him in for a long and thorough kiss, one that instantly sets her blood to humming.

"Now _that's_ a hello," Sam murmurs, smiling at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and keeping her close. "You nervous?"

"Extremely," she confesses, yanking on the seatbelt in the middle so that she can stay snug up against him. "No one's going to look at me and just... just expect me to know what I'm doing, will they?"

"No." Sam's smile widens. "It's not like that. Don't worry."

"What should I expect then?" she asks, ignoring the ridiculously tangled Los Angeles traffic in favor of watching Sam's face. "I mean, I looked at pictures of the mansion and the club - I saw the dungeon and the restaurants and all that - is it going to be, like, one huge orgy when we walk in?" Fuck, she hopes not. She's really really hoping there will be some way to ease into this whole kinky Citadel thing, but she's afraid it might just not be possible.

"Not when we walk in," Sam says, wanting to be honest and at the same time reassure her. "But the bar can get rowdy and there's a section in the restaurant for those who like to play while they eat. Things'll be quieter since we're going during the day, and the mansions are almost always quieter than the clubs."

"Okay." Jessica nods, anxiety lingering in her blue eyes for another moment before she takes a breath and shoves it firmly aside. "I was looking at the application. Would I really need to write down a safeword? Even if I'm never going to need it?"

"Yeah." Sam nods. "Besides, how do you know you won't need it? You don't have to be scening to want someone to stop what they're doing. Maybe they're being too rough or they've got you in a position you suddenly want out of." He shrugs. "You never know and it's the quickest way to tell someone you mean business. You can use red or safeword even, if you want, just as long as it's something you'll remember."

"Hmm. I haven't yet found someone who's too rough..." she muses, her muscles losing some of their tension as she links her fingers with Sam's. "But you're right that I want the power over that. I mean, I like it when they take initiative. But only exactly the right amount, you know?" Jessica grins at him, well aware that she's pretty much asking the impossible.

Sam laughs. "Sounds like you want to be in control."

"I don't know. I mean, control the way _you_ people look at it..." she teases. She adds thoughtfully, "I don't think it's even so much that. I just hate it when people have control over _me_ , you know? I mean, I couldn't much care less what else they get up to."

The car pulls to a stop, the driver checking in with the gatehouse, and then up around the long drive in front of the mansion, the driver getting out to open their doors. "We'll need to check in with the concierge," Sam says. "Have you fill out some paperwork."

"Yeah yeah, I heard," Jessica grumbles, but she's smiling. "I brought my passport and my birth certificate, I have a living will, I know my blood type..."

"You're willing to sign over your firstborn," Sam teases, showing his ID to the doorman. "I have a guest with me," he explains, his hand on the small of Jessica's back.

"Very good, sir," the doorman says, motioning for security to see them to the front desk.

"Who says I'm having kids?" she murmurs, but her tone sounds a bit absent; she's much too absorbed in looking around and trying to take in every detail at once. "Sam," she whispers, a tiny bit disappointed, "this looks like the Ritz-Carlton. I thought it was supposed to be all naked and badass and whatever."

Sam laughs. "Just you wait," he says, explaining to the girl at the desk again that he's here with a guest, who will most likely be applying for membership.

The girl smiles at them and motions for another girl to take their coats. "Someone will be with you in a moment," she says, picking up a phone to call the office. "Carol? We have Sam Worthington here with a guest," she says. "Jessica Chastain. I need someone to help her fill out the paperwork. He says she's likely to become a member. Great. Thank you." She hangs up. "Julian will be right down."

Jessica blinks. "Julian," she mutters under her breath, turning away from the desk. "Great." At least at the Ritz they don't leave her standing around like a delivery guy.

"Someone's impatient," Sam says. "Have a seat," he tells her, motioning at the chairs and sofa arranged in front of a huge fireplace. "I'll wait here." But then the doors beyond the concierge desk open and a guy who looks like a fucking Armani model comes out.

"Mr. Worthington?" Julian says, holding out his hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Julian Alston." He shakes Sam's and turns to Jessica. "And you're Ms. Chastain. Again, a pleasure to meet you," he says, taking her hand and kissing the back. "If you'd like to follow me, we'll get you set up."

_Oh. My god._ Julian is sublimely gorgeous as well as dressed to the nines in an expensive dark suit. Jessica would follow him anywhere. She gets to her feet, suddenly feeling horribly under-dressed. But she's not about to let him out of her sight.

Julian leads them through the doors, down the hall and into the library. "Normally, I'd take you upstairs but Monsieur Garneau is here and he's using the office today," he says, gesturing for them to take a seat at the round table in the middle of the room. "Can I get either of you a drink?" he asks.

"White wine?" Jessica answers uncertainly. She sits at the table, thinking that while it may look like the setup for many of the business meetings she's had to endure, surely it won't seem like one...

"I'll have a scotch," Sam says, smiling as a tall, gorgeous blonde, dressed in three-inch heels and a dark blue sheath dress, walks into the room.

"Everything should be there," she says with a slight French accent, handing a thick folder over to Julian. "Anything else?"

"Thank you, Marie. Could you send someone in with a glass of white wine for Ms. Chastain and scotch for Mr. Worthington," he says.

"Mais oui," she replies, giving them both a nod and a smile before leaving the room again.

Julian takes a seat and opens the folder. "The most important part for today is the non-disclosure agreement." He goes over it in detail, pausing only when a young man with long blond hair, clothed in nothing but skintight black leather shorts and a black leather cuff with three red stripes enters bearing a tray with their drinks.

"Thank you," Jessica says to the server - servant? - as she takes her glass, but immediately wonders whether it's okay that she spoke to him. She glances at Sam, hoping for clues, then gives Julian a tentative smile and returns to the documents spread before her.

"Thanks," Sam says as his scotch is set before him. "She doesn't have to fill out all of this today, does she?"

Julian shakes his head, still smiling back at Jessica. God, she's beautiful. "No, not all of it, but she does have to do the non-disclosure agreement and you have to do the guest admission form," he slides a piece of paper across to Sam. "And if she does the first three pages of the application, it'll speed things up for when she does apply."

"That's good to know," Jessica murmurs. She scans the papers and finds them to be just a more detailed version of what Julian has already explained, so when he begins to point out blanks for her initials and her signature, she signs. Her glass of wine is nearly empty by the time she reaches the last page and she's received a comprehensive lecture on standards her behavior must follow during her visit today. "If you just cuff me to Sam now, will that make it easier?" she asks, her smile dry.

"It might," Julian allows with a smile, placing the papers back in their folder. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Chastain. If there's anything you should need, please feel free to call me," he says, handing over his business card. "I'll be the one handling your membership application until it's forwarded to the Board."

"Thank you, Julian," she says, taking his card and rising to her feet, then holding out her hand to him once more. "I appreciate your time."

"It was truly my pleasure," Julian says, kissing her hand again, his lips lingering maybe a few seconds longer than they should. "Enjoy your tour."

"She will," Sam says, amused, watching the other man.

"He seemed nice," Jessica murmurs after they've left her mountain of legal paperwork far behind them. She dares a quick glance back over her shoulder - another glimpse of Julian wouldn't ruin her day, not at all - then sighs and slips her hand onto the crook of Sam's elbow. "So, what's next?"

"Do you want to see the facilities or should we go straight to the bar?" Sam asks, since Jessica's already been complaining about things not seeming kinky enough.

"When you say 'facilities,' what do you mean?" she asks. "Like, the gym? The dungeon?" She shrugs and kisses Sam's cheek. "Show me whatever you like best, how's that? Or, wait. Is this where you first met Ryan?"

"We met at the club," Sam says, smiling at the kiss. "But the bars are pretty similar. Let's go there first. I don't want you thinking this place is just a fancy hotel."

"Okay." Jessica giggles. It's not that she has any objections to fancy hotels, of course. It's just that... A step ahead of her, Sam pushes open a set of double doors, and her blue eyes go wide.

The bar's not as busy as it would be in the evening or on a weekend, but it's still pretty impressive. There's a well-known sitcom star, naked and on his knees, in the middle of the room, a woman in leather pants and bustier tugging hard on a chain linking his nipples. Calling him every name in the book. And then there's a girl, in a short sheath-like mini-dress, identifiable as staff by the cuff on her wrist, her legs slung over the arms of a chair as a man in a business suit, only his zipper open, shoves his cock up her ass, slowly and deeply.

"More wine? Or something else?" Sam asks, turning to Jessica, making sure she has a good hold on his arm.

"Bloody Mary?" she replies in a faint voice, staring around and trying to take in every detail at once. Some people in the vast room are fully dressed, so at least she doesn't stick out like a sore thumb, but the real head trip is how several people don't even seem to be aware of the _sex_ going on right near them. "Oh, my god," she whispers, focusing on a very well-built young man, tall and muscular and wearing nothing but a few wide strips of red leather. He kneels down next to an older woman - perhaps in her sixties? - splaying his hands on the floor as the woman props her feet up on his back. "Oh, my god."

"Is that shock," Sam asks, ordering their drinks at the bar, "or oh my god, I'd like a boy stool of my own?"

"I--" Jessica feels her cheeks flush hot, and oh yeah she's openly staring. Moisture pulses in her cunt, taking her breath in an instant of surprise. "What... what's in it for him?"

"He gets off on serving her, on being used, maybe on being humiliated if he thinks of it that way," Sam says, gathering their drinks and leading Jessica to a booth from which they can see everything.

_Oh, god_. She really doesn't know where to look, but she's grateful that Sam told her in advance that staring is okay, because... well hell, she can't stop. "And people just fuck like this out in the open. In front of everyone." _Obviously_. "And... other people jack themselves off while they watch?"

"Yup." Sam grins, taking a sip of his scotch.

Jessica tastes her Bloody Mary and absently frowns at how bland it is, but she's much too distracted to do anything about it. "Do you?" she asks Sam suddenly, turning to look at him. "Fuck like this, out in, you know, public?"

Sam's grin widens. "Yeah, but not always. The night I met Ryan we went up to my room."

"Why?" She sets her drink aside and turns away from the spectacle of various flavours. Folding her arms on the table, she focuses her attention completely on Sam. "I read your profile. I read Ryan's. So tell me, what did you do in your room that you didn't want to do with him down here?" She wants to _know_ , god, feels like she wants to know everything.

Christ. Sam rubs a hand over the back of his neck, eyeing his scotch for a moment before deciding he'd better slow down. "He told me he was into bloodplay and I was interested in that so we went upstairs."

Now Jessica props her chin in her hand, steadily studying him. "That didn't freak you out?" she asks after a moment. "The whole blood... thing? I mean, just safety-wise?"

"No, but I know what the risks are, and we'd talked, and it was pretty obvious he was clean," Sam says, well aware he's not setting the best example. "Plus when you've been playing as long as I have, you can trust your gut instinct."

She frowns, figuring that's a level of intuition she's simply never going to attain. "How long have you been playing, Sam?"

"I started playing in my late teens and got more serious about it in my twenties," Sam says, taking a drink of that scotch and motioning to a server for another. "I've only been a member for about six, seven years now."

Jessica nods. "You listed hardcore anal stuff as one of your kinks," she points out, still trying to wrap her mind around just what it looks like when Sam _plays_. "And yet you never once tried to fuck me up the ass." There's a touch of offense in her voice.

"No, I didn't, but it doesn't mean I didn't want to," Sam says, blowing out a breath. "But we were working, and you weren't a member, and you sure as hell read as vanilla. Not boring, not by a long shot, just not kinky."

She rolls her eyes and takes a large swallow of her drink, then finally waves a server down so she can hand it back. "Not spicy enough," she tells the extremely buff and mostly-naked young man. "Thanks." The sweet smile disappears the second she returns her gaze to Sam, however. "How can you tell, anyway? Is it like gaydar?"

"Pretty much," Sam allows. "Plus at this point, I mostly play through the club and I barely do that anymore. We have a couple of friends we play with and they're members. And then there's you," he adds with a smile.

"And then there's me," she agrees, one corner of her mouth lifting into a smirk as she eyes him. God, Sam gets her hot -- always has, and it seems like he doesn't even work at it. And now, in this setting... "I wore out my batteries. Did I tell you that yet?"

"No." Sam grins. "How'd you do that? Thinking about us or this?" He nods towards the room.

"Just thinking about how I might finally be working my way out of this stupid drought. Which, I don't know, just kind of revved me up even more than usual," Jessica replies. Beneath the table, she places her foot on the bench in between Sam's spread thighs, nudging the toe of her boot against his fly. "What did Ryan say about you coming here today? Are you allowed to get me off?"

Fuck. Sam shifts forward, eyes locked on hers. "He said anything goes." Or close enough, since Sam doubts Jessica's going to ask if she can fist him. "As long as I go home and give him all the details."

"Perfect." She grins and then glances aside at the busy room. She couldn't even say for sure what nerves her up, and she can feel a hot blush starting when she asks, "Here? Or do you need to take me into a private room, too?"

"I'm good with here," Sam says, crooking a finger at her and patting his lap.

Jessica's grin twinkles and she gets up to circle the table, while Sam shifts to the end of the bench to make room. Her skinny jeans are of course fashionably tight, and when she straddles his thighs she moans, denim rubbing her just right.

Sam smiles at Jessica, fingers slowly unbuttoning her blouse as he kisses her, softly at first, then a little more firmly, tongue delving into her mouth.

_Oh. God._ She damn near melts against him. _Fuck_ she needs this. Trying to get more contact she wriggles in Sam's lap, pressing up against him while she devours his mouth. Then she simply takes a more direct approach and shoves his hand onto her breast.

With a low groan, Sam pushes her blouse of the way, getting both hands on her breasts, thumbs rubbing over her nipples through the lace of her bra.

"Oh god, yes," Jessica whispers, dropping her head back and squirming into his touch. Her fingers curl tightly into the fabric of his shirt. "God, Sam, fuck me!"

"You want me to fuck you, you'd better get these jeans off," Sam murmurs, biting at her exposed throat, his fingers still playing with her nipples, pinching them into rigid peaks.

Jessica whimpers with frustration, but Sam's words are undeniably logical. She gets to her feet and quickly kicks off her ankle boots, then shimmies out of her jeans. Letting her unbuttoned blouse fall to the floor as well she climbs back into Sam's lap, dressed now only in her lacy black bra and panties. She deliberately ignores their setting now, knowing that if she opens up to her natural shyness, she'll feel way too vulnerable to continue. And Jessica wants this too fucking much to lose out.

In the meantime, Sam's got his jeans open, a condom rolled on, a packet of lube nearby. He pulls her in again, kissing her roughly, one hand dragging the crotch of her panties out of the way while the other grasps her hip, his cock finding its target. He shoves up hard, sinking deep into her.

She cries out, digging her fingernails into his shoulders and arching her back at the shock of that first penetration. But in seconds she moans and begins to move on him, sensuously circling her hips to rub her clit against him just right.

"Hold on. Slow down for a second," Sam says, reaching for the lube. "You asked me about wanting your ass," he whispers, licking at her mouth as he slicks his fingers then slides them between her cheeks, where her panties have been pulled aside.

Jessica stiffens instinctively in response. "Here?" she whispers, her gaze darting around nervously. She thinks of the last time, when Sam fucked her while Ryan took her from behind... "I don't know anyone else here," not well enough, anyway; she's certainly seen several familiar faces in the last hour.

"No. Hell fucking no," Sam murmurs, shaking his head, surprised at the possessiveness that rolls through him. Completely misplaced. "My fingers," he clarifies, rubbing the pads over her hole.

Realization dawns. " _Ohh_ ," she says, and then arches an eyebrow at him, a smile beginning to curve her lips. She rubs back against Sam's fingers for a moment, testing, and shivers with a shock of pleasure. "Oh, _yes_."

Eyes locked on hers, Sam pushes one finger inside her, slowly, letting her get used to it before adding a second, both fingers pushed deeper, until they're in as far as they can go.

"Oh god, that's good," she murmurs, shutting her eyes to focus more fully on sensation. She rocks gently against him, then asks, "More lube? Just a little?" Her pussy certainly doesn't need it, though; she's so fucking hungry for Sam's cock.

"Yeah." Sam nods, reaching for the lube again and squirting more over his fingers and around that so-tight pucker. Fucking his fingers into a little harder, scissoring them to open her more so he can add a third.

"Mmm." Jessica whines under her breath, wriggling on him, so fucking _ready_. "That's it," she gasps, breathless with pure wanting. "No more taking it slow." She works back onto his fingers until she's got them as deep as she can get, then starts to ride his cock, her body demanding that he keep up.

Sam braces his feet against the floor, keeping his fingers deep in Jessica's ass as he fucks up into her, meeting every drop with a thrust of his own. He's aware of the eyes on them but his gaze never wavers. He wants her to lose herself in this. 

And she is, god. Her nails dig into Sam's shoulders through his shirt and she shuts her eyes, centering herself in physical sensation. "Oh, god," she moans, angling so that her clit rubs against him just right. "Oh, god!" she shouts, exploding around him, his wicked fingers plus his heavy cock much too delicious for her not to surrender.

Jesus fuck. It takes every last bit of control Sam has to hold back. "That's one," he murmurs, slipping his free hand between them, his fingers playing over her clit as he keeps on fucking her cunt and ass.

"Yes," Jessica gasps, and drops her hands to brace herself, one against the table and one on the booth itself. She arches her back and grinds down on Sam, and the lingering momentum of her first orgasm drives her right into her second. "Fuck, yes!"

Sam groans, fuck, and gives in, driving into her with everything he has, so fucking close to the edge, so close... he comes with a shout, slamming up into her, his fingers rougher than ever as his cock spurts hot and thick, again and again, into the latex between them.

God it feels so fucking good, feeling Sam's cock swell that last bit even more inside her... Jessica clamps her muscles around him, and opens her eyes, pinning him with her gaze. "Not yet," she orders, "not yet, not yet..." He came but he's not limp yet, and she rises and falls, working his cock, using him. Abruptly she sits back up, taking hold of his shoulders again. "Suck me," she says, all but pushing her breasts into his face.

Sam chuckles at the order but he's not stupid. In a second, he's got his mouth on her nipple through the black lace of her bra and he's working it with his teeth and tongue.

Jessica whimpers, her head dropping back, and fuck that is _it_ \-- a third climax bursts through her and she rocks in Sam's lap through every last sweet aftershock. When she's finally sated, she rests her cheek on Sam's shoulder, comfortable with just wrapping herself around him for a few moments.

Easing his fingers from her, Sam slides Jessica's panties back into place. He wipes his hand on his jeans and wraps his arms around her, shielding her from everyone else. There's still the condom to get rid of, but it can wait for a minute.

"Mmm." She hums with pleasure, then lifts her head to give Sam a grin. "You've still got it," she murmurs, and kisses him, licking into his mouth.

Sam chuckles. "Thanks," he murmurs, eyes sparkling. "So do you."

Jessica grins. "So... now what?" she asks, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink as she regains awareness of the crowded room, the buzz of conversation around them. Reaching down to hold the rubber in place, she carefully lifts herself out of Sam's lap. "Is there, um. Something else you want to show me?" Such a loaded question.

"Well," Sam discreetly disposes of the condom before answering that, "there's watching more here - you can ask me questions about what's going on or ask about me and Ryan since you seemed curious on the phone, or there's the private rooms, or the stables out back."

"Stables?" she echoes, incredulous. "People really...? Yeah, I read about that." Jessica shakes her head and sighs. "Show me the dungeon?" she suggests hopefully. "And tell me about your set-up with Ryan. Because I was trying to figure it out, I really was, but I still don't get what practical difference it makes, this gray area between boyfriend and slave."

"Well, a boyfriend's just a boyfriend," Sam says, realizing, as Jessica dresses, that he's never really tried to articulate this to anyone before. "You might get kinky with him every once in the while in the bedroom, but that's about it. A slave on the other hand, he's under your control 24/7 and doesn't get to make any choices of his own." He smiles at her. "Did you want to bring your drink with you?"

"Yeah..." Distractedly, she attempts to smooth her hair into some semblance of style other than _so just fucked_. "Yeah," she says, surer of herself now as she picks up her drink and takes a large sip. "Let's go. So, okay, you've got a boy, not a slave, not a boyfriend," she murmurs, working through what she knows while they begin to make their way out of the bar. "Which means that he makes his own choices and he can tell you if he just doesn't want to fuck you some night?" Not that she can imagine Ryan turning down sex...

"Not exactly," Sam says, almost wincing at the answer, but only because he knows how it must sound from Jessica's end. When she doesn't yet get the dynamics at work. "He can tell me he doesn't feel up to it, but if I want sex, I'm going to get it. Just like I can push him down over a table anytime I want and fuck him."

She arches an eyebrow at him. Every time she thinks she's starting to have an inkling what's going on... "So you're saying your relationship gives you the right to rape him, 24/7. And... that's not a slave?"

Sam gives her a look. "You really think that sounds like me?"

Jessica's gaze back is just as steady. "No, I don't. Not in general but then especially not with Ryan, because it's obvious that you're just stupid in love with him. Which is part of why I'm so confused right now."

"Okay." Sam nods. "What you have to understand is that everything is based on consent. If you have a boyfriend and you're occasionally being kinky with him, consent is going to be on an as-you-go basis. Each time you're together, you're going to get his consent for whatever you're doing. If you have a slave, you've already negotiated consent beforehand through your contract and short of really harming them, anything is game. And they want that." He blows out a breath. "If you have a boy, it becomes a little more complicated. It could go either way, depending again on the relationship you've negotiated, but most of the time you've already got their consent for anything from the get-go and they've got a safeword they can use if they need to stop things. But in Ryan's case, he's given up his safeword because he trusts me to do right by him. That I wouldn't really hurt him or make him do something he can't handle. In that way, we're closer to being Master and slave, but he also gets to mouth off at me a lot, he doesn't have a ton of rules and I don't try and micromanage his days or his life, so that makes him my boy."

"Okay." She sips at her drink, considering. "All right," she says finally. "I see that, I think. What does Ryan get out of being your boy, that he wouldn't get from just being your boyfriend? Or wait, would you not want him as just a boyfriend?"

"I don't think that was even an option for either of us," Sam says. "The way we met, here, our first scene... When we fell for each other, we'd already been together as sir and boy - it was just defining that as _his_ sir and _my_ boy. Now if you're asking if I'd still want him if he suddenly woke up one day and said this wasn't working for him anymore, of course I fucking would. But the chances of that happening are virtually nil. We were both looking for something when we met and we found it in each other and we clicked so fucking perfectly..." He pauses, struggling to explain it in terms Jessica will get. "He wants to be mine. All those marks on his body? The tattoo and his piercings? I put them there - because he wanted me to. He wanted anyone looking at him to know he belongs to me and only to me. That he's owned. But I don't want him losing himself completely. I want all the amazing fucking things that make Ryan Ryan - and that's why he's not my slave. Because I believe - personally - that a slave tends to lose those things." 

Now Jessica can only listen, entranced by the sudden passion in Sam's voice. She's not even paying attention to wherever he's leading her. "When you talk about it like that, you make it sound so hot," she says softly, her eyes shining.

"It is hot," Sam says with a grin. "Incredibly fucking hot." That grin widens and he holds out his hand, leading her downstairs and through the double doors to the dungeon.

It looks like a generic institution, hospital maybe, with a burly but gorgeous security guard sitting behind a desk.

"Hey," Sam greets the guy. "Prospective new member," he says, nodding towards Jessica. "Mind if I show her the big dungeon and whatever rooms are open?"

"Not at all," the guy says with a smile, mostly aimed at Jessica. He glances at the clipboard in front of him. "One and three are private. Two has a male-on-male fisting and four's got a male dom with a female sub riding a horse."

Jessica smiles at the guard, but then looks at Sam in question. "I thought you said the stables were out there," she whispers, gesturing. Or wait, maybe he meant...?

Sam shakes his head. "It's a method of torment. The sub's made to ride a hard edge that bites into them as they move. Sometimes they're suspended, sometimes they just have to try and keep their weight off it," he explains. "You want to see?"

She's still working the description over in her head when his question filters through. "Wait. What?" She darts a covert glance aside at the guard, then murmurs to Sam, "Are we allowed to watch that?" Surely not.

Sam nods. "Yeah, that's why he told us the other two rooms are private. C'mere," he says, taking her hand and pulling her down the left hallway. He stops at the first door and points out the tile placed in the bracket on the door, which is closed, its window covered from the inside. It reads private. "That means they don't want us watching. But next door." He nods towards the bracket with its sign which reads _open_. "They want an audience."

"Oh." Jessica tiptoes a tiny bit closer, feeling that at any moment someone is going to scream at her that she's an intruder -- and then kick her the hell out. "Which one is this?" she whispers, hiding behind Sam and peeking over his shoulder.

"The fisting. There's chairs inside if you want to sit down and watch," Sam says, unable to resist.

She elbows Sam sharply for the suggestion, but then holds onto his arm as she continues to stare into the room over his shoulder. One man - the master? the fister? - is wearing leather pants and standing next to some kind of leather-strap contraption hung from the ceiling. Another man - the fistee? - is sprawled, half-sitting, in the contraption. He's whimpering loudly, his fingers clenched so tight that they're white-knuckled, and no wonder because the other man is freakin' _buried_ inside his ass to halfway up his forearm. "Oh my god, that looks painful," she whispers, stunned. Yep, Sam and Ryan told her that people actually really do this, for fun... God.

"Except that he's hard as hell," Sam murmurs, nodding towards the boy's rather impressive erection. "And yeah, it does hurt going in, right at the widest part, but once they're there, it feels incredible."

Jessica shakes her head, not exactly in denial but in amazement. Feels incredible? How? Then her head whips around and she stares at Sam. "Wait. _You_...? You've been on the receiving end of this?"

Sam nods, grinning, careful to keep his voice down. "Yeah. These days Ryan's the only one who gets to fist me, but it's always been a kink of mine. Both ways."

Now her stare at the two men is less incredulous, more simple astonishment. The noises the fistee is making, though -- fuck, they're getting her wet. "And women do this, too?"

"Yeah." Sam watches her for a moment. "Vaginal and anal. Of course, simple biology means vaginal's easier. Not easy, just easier."

"Wow." Jessica watches the two men in awed silence for long moments and she finally creeps out from behind Sam, linking her hand with his. Her breath catches when the bottom man's back arches and he screams, then begins desperately babbling pleas for permission to come.

The top orders the boy to come for him and the boy screams again as he does, thick white strands lacing his stomach and thighs, his hole clenching convulsively around the top's forearm. Fuck. Sam squeezes Jessica's hand, his own cock jerking at the sight.

Jessica's jaw drops. Even as curious as she is, she tugs Sam back out of the doorway with her. "How did he do that?" she whispers once they're safely in the hallway and out of hearing. "I've never seen anyone just, like, have an orgasm on command like that."

Chances are the boy was just holding back but that's not what Jessica's asking about. "He's probably trained," Sam says. "Ryan is. Usually it's just a matter of the sub already being really close and getting permission, but some can come on command even when they're not. Not just out of the blue. That's the stuff of fucking movies and books, but during sex or scening, yeah."

"Okay," she says softly, although she's definitely going to need some time to process this later. "But in a scene like that, now what about...?" She steps a little closer and peeks in the open door once more, to find that the one man has now pulled his hand out of the other. He adjusts the height of the swing, then unceremoniously shoves his erection into the bottom's mouth. "Oh." Jessica swiftly retreats to the safety of Sam and the hallway once more. "Okay. Got it."

"You were wondering what the dom got out of it?" Sam asks, grinning.

"...I was, yeah," Jessica admits with a grin. She catches the sparkle in Sam's eye and can't resist kissing him, because he's wonderful and he's helping her get comfortable and anyway it just feels so damn good. "Okay. Can we watch the horse thing now?"

Sam's grin widens at the kiss. "Sure." He gives her hand another squeeze and leads her to the other room. "You want to take a seat in this one?" he asks, since the lights are down low except for one focused right on the sub, who's strung up by her arms to a chain dangling from the ceiling, her crotch resting heavily against the sharp edge of the wooden "horse", her toes just barely touching the ground.

Jessica nods and sits down as silently as she can where Sam points out chairs. The woman has tears running down her face, and her skin is red with livid marks. The obvious source for the marks is the man standing and watching her, a thick flogger tapping restlessly against his thigh. Jessica can only imagine how much pain the woman must be in right now, simply from her arms taking nearly all her body weight. And still the woman squirms, rubbing her pussy against the horse. Jessica's breath catches, and she licks her lips.

"He's an in-house dom," Sam says, pointing out the wristband worn by the Citadel dominants.

She looks where Sam is pointing and squints at the wide red-striped black band in question, then nods. And then she does the math. Her eyes wide, Jessica puts her hand up to hide her mouth when she leans close to Sam and whispers, "You mean, she's actually _paying_ him to do this to her?"

Sam nods. "Maybe her primary partner isn't into kink, or maybe she doesn't have one and can't be bothered with trying to find the right hook-up in the bar," he muses. "This way she gets exactly what she's looking for." His cock twitching as the woman cries out again, her lips visibly red and sore as she shifts yet again, trying to get comfortable.

All right, when he puts it that way, it's not so different from the reason Jessica herself has come to Citadel. Maybe she should look into hiring one of the in-house employees. Would the instructions, 'Just fuck me until I scream' be sufficient? She pushes the thought aside and asks Sam, "Does she have to wait to come until he tells her, like that last guy?"

"Not unless it's what they negotiated," Sam says. "But you know, if you were too busy for a pick-up and we weren't in town," he grins at her in the dim light. "You could always come here and ask the front desk for someone. You could go either way. Hire a dominant to just fuck you. Or hire a sub and order him to fuck you."

"Can I order him to enjoy it, too?" she asks wryly. Having to _force_ some guy to have sex with her... God. That could be so incredibly demoralizing, if she lets herself think of it that way.

Sam laughs. "Are you kidding me? Besides the fact that you're smoking hot, any sub you _ordered_ to fuck you would be lucky not to come right there and then," he murmurs, leaning in close. "That's what you have to remember. These guys? They get off on this. Order them not to come until you do. Sit on their face and fucking smother them. Make them wear a cock ring and keep them hard until you've come as many times as you want." He grins. "You ever thought about fucking a guy?"

"Well of course, that's why I'm--" Jessica's eyes dart to his, and widen. "Oh." _Oh_. Jesus, she really needs to get her head wrapped around all that. She glances at the woman, who is still bound and whimpering and desperate, and Jessica really really wants to watch the girl come. But this conversation is more important right now, so once more she signals Sam to follow her back out into the hallway again.

"Harnesses. With dildos," Jessica says quietly, watching Sam's face. "I've seen those, right, but... Okay, I guess I can see how a bisexual guy could get off on a woman fucking him up the ass with a dildo. But, a straight one?"

"Why not?" Sam asks. "It has less to do with being fucked up the ass than it does being fucked up the ass by a woman, and even straight guys have prostates," he adds, eyes sparkling.

"Oh god, Sam, you do _not_ understand American men," she says with a shake of her head. "They are _so_ squeamish. Like, you can grab a guy's ass while he's fucking you, or play with his balls while you're blowing him, but the second your fingers start to wander just a little tiny bit..." Jessica rolls her eyes. "Remember how shocked I was when you offered to prep my ass that time I was with you and Ryan? Because these guys fantasize desperately about fucking women up the ass. But actually touching them there with their _fingers?_ Oh, hell no."

Sam grins. "All that says is you've been fucking the wrong men. Present company excluded," he adds with a laugh.

"Of course," she agrees, linking her fingers with Sam's. "So maybe if I join up here, I'll start meeting the 'right' kind of man." She laughs. "Can we see the dungeon now?"

"Yeah, of course," Sam says, walking her towards it. "And next time you're over, you can see our playroom."

"Playroom?" Jessica looks at him quizzically. "Wait, do you mean that you have a dungeon in your house?"

"Yeah, that fourth bedroom? The one we keep locked 'cause it has all Ryan's junk in it?" Sam grins.

She snorts a laugh; she just can't help it. "You like to lock down Ryan's junk in there?"

"Smartass," Sam sighs but he laughs anyway. Christ. "Pretty much." He glances into the dungeon which actually proves to be empty. "There you go. No one's here. You can look - and ask questions - to your heart's content."

"Okay." Jessica steps into the cavernous room, eagerly looking around. Toys and equipment are in varying groupings: a selection of floggers hanging in straight rows by what must be a spanking bench, some huge bondage equipment against one wall, condoms and bottles of lube neatly set out in bowls everywhere. "Do different people play in here at the same time?" she asks Sam in a whisper, because she still hasn't overcome the sense that she's intruding. "Like, and it doesn't get confusing?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asks. "Confusing how?"

"I mean, distracting," Jessica clarifies, strolling through the room and trying to determine just for what purposes all the different tools are intended. "Because, if someone is getting spanked over here, and then someone else is, um, strapped to the wall over here," she touches a dimmer switch and the lights brighten, "and then, someone is... in a cage, apparently, over there..." God, this place is insane. "And if they're all screaming and yelling, how does anyone focus?"

"Once you're in scene, it's actually not too much of a problem, and if you're coming down here, as opposed to going up to a private room or using one of the other rooms out there, you kind of want the noise and the chaos," Sam says. He shrugs. "I don't spend much time down here."

"Do you play in public at all?" she asks, and a hot blush immediately rises on her cheeks. "I mean, what we did up there -- that wasn't really playing, right?"

"Yeah, it was," Sam says, slowly closing the distance between them. "And I do, sometimes. Mostly in the bar, sometimes in one of the rooms out there. And Ryan and I play out in the open at the various events." He smiles. "I fisted him once on the beach in Fiji with a whole bunch of people watching and we've scened in the various dining rooms a few times."

Jessica cocks her head to the side, studying him like he's an intriguing museum exhibit. "Do you let other people play with him, too?"

Sam nods. "Occasionally. I'm pretty particular about who I let play with him, but if I know them... then yeah."

"And is it something like, 'Hey Ryan, do you want my friend to fuck you' or, 'Hey Ryan, I want my friend to fuck you'?"

"More like the last," Sam admits, leaning back against the end of the spanking bench. "First time, I was messing around with a friend at the bar and when Ryan joined us, I told him we wanted to DP him. He was into the idea and liked the guy so a few months later, when I had Ryan tied to the kitchen island, I just had the guy come over and we took turns with him. Without Ryan knowing he was coming over. But most of the time I ask him if he's okay with things. I could still go ahead either way, because that's the way our relationship works, but I'd worry about messing with his head. Hurting him emotionally."

For a very long moment, Jessica can only stare at Sam in wide-eyed silence. There is just so much to absorb from those few sentences, and she doesn't even know where to start with the questions. Turning away, she crosses to the cage to find out if it's as sturdy as it looks -- of course it is. Why did she even wonder? "And does he ever come to you and say, 'Hey Sam, can I fuck your friend'?

"No." Sam shakes his head. "He could ask for permission but he never has, and I don't fuck around the way I once did."

"Because you're in love?" Jessica boosts herself to a seat on top of the cage, demurely crossing her legs at the knee.

Sam grins and ducks his head a little. "Yeah, that's a big part of it."

"Awww." She still doesn't quite understand the juxtaposition -- all this Medieval-looking equipment, and Sam standing there all but admitting what a sap he secretly is. "Do most dominants love their submissives, do you think?" The stuff she's read made it all sound much more like a business arrangement; granted, this entire building she's standing in makes it sound that way. But Sam... she's never seen him before like he is with Ryan.

Sam shrugs. "I don't know." He hasn't really given it much thought. "I didn't love anyone I played with before Ryan, and I know lots of people who just have contracts and they care for each other, but I don't think there's any grand passion there or anything."

"I want a grand passion," Jessica says softly, meditatively. Then she looks up and gives Sam a grin. "I'm pretty sure I'm not cut out for it, though." She hops lightly to her feet and takes his arm. "Okay, I'm sold. Show me where to sign up."


End file.
